Page 114 of Cruel Deception
Her eyes widened. “Oh my days!” she gasped, rushing toward me. Her voice was laced with horror.
I flinched hard, crawling back instinctively, every nerve flaring. Was this some new game Cassian was playing? Bring in another woman, have her strip before me? Have her laugh while he—
“Don’t touch me!” I screamed.
She froze, palms raised. “Cassian did this to you?” Her voice cracked. She looked like she might cry.
I couldn’t even answer. I was too humiliated. Ashamed. Naked not just in skin, but in soul. No man had ever seen me like this, and now a woman—this woman—was witnessing what I’d become. A chained animal.
“Who are you?” I rasped.
“I’m Elodie.” She swallowed. “Cassian’s sister.”
Relief flooded through me—not because she was his family, but because it meant he didn’t bring her here for something sinister.
She stepped forward again, slower this time. “Can I help you?”
“I said don’t touch me!” I was still clutching the soiled sheet around me like it could somehow protect what little of me was left.
“I’m so sorry,” she said softly. She knelt beside the chain, fiddling with it. “It’s locked. Wait—I’ll get the keys.”
I shook my head numbly. “He won’t give them to you.”
“I’ll be back,” she said, standing and disappearing through the door.
I tried to move, but agony shot through my body. My legs. My back. My arms. I couldn’t even crawl. I just laid there, trembling, shivering, barely breathing.
Then, she returned.
And to my shock—she had the keys.
Without a word, she knelt again and began unlocking the chains. The clinking of metal felt like the sweetest lullaby. When my legs were finally free, I whimpered, the bruised skin screaming from even the slightest movement.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said gently.
“I can’t move,” I whispered.
“I’ll help you.”
She wrapped a clean towel around my naked frame and helped me stand. Every step to the bathroom was like draggingmyself through fire. But she was patient. She bathed me carefully, tenderly. No judgment. Just kindness. She shampooed my hair, scrubbed my skin, even massaged a balm into the angry wounds the chains had left.
She helped me back into bed and returned moments later with a soft cotton dress. “You look so lean,” she muttered sadly. “Let me get you something to eat.”
Before I could protest, she was gone again. I honestly didn’t think I had the appetite to eat. But she returned with a plate—steamed rice, grilled vegetables, and lemon chicken. It smelled like the outside world. A world I forgot existed.
I tried to lift the fork, but my hands trembled.
She sat with me as I ate. Slowly. Quietly. Just her presence made the food easier to swallow.
Then she asked, “Have you ever considered getting implants?”
I shook my head. “I don’t want them. I was advised after my surgery, but... I want to get to a place where I don’t feel ashamed of not having them. I know to the world I look incomplete, maybe even deformed. But I survived cancer. That’s already a miracle. A lot of people don’t.”
She didn’t try to change my mind. She just reached for my hand and held it. Warm. Human.
“Your brother...”
“I know,” she said, eyes misting. “He wasn’t always like this. A lot happened. But we’ll talk more about it later, okay? First, let’s focus on getting you stronger.”
